


514. We start each other's fires

by SevlinRipley



Category: It - All Fandom Types, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Related, Bathing/Washing, Bathtubs, Blow Jobs, Bottom Mike Wheeler, Brother/Brother Incest, Degradation, Dominant Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, Forced Wetting, Incest, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Lap-sitting, M/M, Painplay, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Spanking, Submissive Mike Wheeler, Teasing, Top Richie Tozier, Twincest, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 21:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/SevlinRipley
Summary: Throughout the day, Richie had been guiding Mike to drink water. 'You're lookin' a little dry, there, ol' chap. Spot of water for ye?' Putting little flavor additives in that he knew Mike liked, so that he'd drink more, faster. Basically giving him service that was usually reserved for when Richie owed Mike something, or was trying to apologize. There'd been plenty of times Richie had fallen on the sword of servitude, and did just what Mike asked of him. But today, Mike wasn't actually asking for the water.Richie was just relying on a certain level of suggestibility Mike had learned with him, in bed, to feed into things.





	514. We start each other's fires

**Author's Note:**

> The paragraphs in bold were written by an anonymous contributor ♥

Throughout the day, Richie had been guiding Mike to drink water. 'You're lookin' a little dry, there, ol' chap. Spot of water for ye?' Putting little flavor additives in that he knew Mike liked, so that he'd drink more, faster. Basically giving him service that was usually reserved for when Richie owed Mike something, or was trying to apologize. There'd been plenty of times Richie had fallen on the sword of servitude, and did just what Mike asked of him. But today, Mike wasn't actually asking for the water.

Richie was just relying on a certain level of suggestibility Mike had learned with him, in bed, to feed into things. "Hey, Mike! Catch!" Richie said, tossing a fresh water bottle Mike's way, before throwing himself over and onto the couch at Mike's side. He laid down, head on Mike's thigh, and pressed back to see if he could feel Mike's stomach bulging, or not. He'd cut Mike off from the bathroom at least twice already, providing distractions, and leading Mike away. Had to be nearly full to the brim by now, didn't he? Had to be aware, by now, what Richie's intent was, based on some discussions they'd had while Richie was riding him, nice and slow, or in-between gasps as he fucked him hard and fast. "How you feelin'? Hydrated?"

**“Mmhm.” Mike was playing video games, Richie’s head pressing against his stomach. He’d had to use the bathroom for a while by then, but every time he made his way over there, something came up. Which he didn’t really mind, he didn’t need to go that bad. With Richie’s head on his lap though, the need became more insistent but not by a lot. _Oh well, I’ll just finish this level and then go._ “Rich, you’re gonna have to get up when I finish this. I have to take a leak.” He said flatly, shifting his thighs a bit to hold his bladder better.**

Smirking at Mike's semi-distracted answer, Richie tipped his mouth down just enough to kiss the top of Mike's thigh, watching the game play out before them on the screen. Usually they played together, but there were single-player games that sometimes left one or the other of them off to the side and waiting. As Richie settled in further, hand coming up to rest over Mike's thigh where he'd just kissed, giving it a gentle squeeze, Richie heard what he needed to. "Well, I mean... I think _have to_ is a little presumptuous. I don't _have to_ get up, Mike. But if you _have to_ take a leak, that's a little different, isn't it? You kind of _do_ have to do that, don't you? Body can't hold it in forever... Meanwhile, I'm just fine. I could probably lay here another eight hours. Take a nap or something."

**“Don’t you dare fall asleep on my leg, Richard!” Mike cried, tapping at his controller frantically. The need to release was building now, going up a notch every second. He was only halfway through the level. _I can still hold it._ “Dude, c'mon, I just - I really have to go. Just stand up when I tell you to, okay? You can come back after I finish.” Mike said, voice a little shaky with desperation.**

"You know, I'm a little offended, right now..." Richie started, scooching to lay with his back pressed along one of Mike's legs, head pinning the other as he itched a hand slowly upward - "You don't even respond when I'm affectionate with you, you don't thank me for the water, you won't let me sleep on you... I'm thinking of holding a revolt. A sit-in, if you will. A peaceful protest, wherein I lie here until you act like you love me more than your video game." All of this was said as a means to take Mike's mind off the fact that Richie was worming his hand up into Mike's underarm. For now, just gentling his knuckles up and down Mike's side. "Say, you're not still ticklish are you?" It didn't really matter if Mike was, because Richie wasn't planning on getting the couch all fucked up. He'd get up when Mike asked him to. Sure, he would...

**Mike paused the game quickly and threw the controller aside. “No, Richie! Don’t tickle me! I’ll burst man, I gotta go so bad!” Mike started to stand up quickly, crossing his legs and jabbing his hands into his bladder to hold himself. “Fuck!”**

Chuckling to himself, Richie dodged upward as Mike tossed the controller. "That was kinda the point," he told Mike. His smile faltered only slightly as he noticed Mike making a move to stand. Like Richie was gonna let all his hard work throughout the day go to waste. He grabbed Mike around the waist, halting him, and pushing him back down into the cushions of the couch. "Where ya goin', sweetheart?"

**Mike whimpered as he was pushed back into the couch. Richie’s hands had been right on his bladder, and without even realizing it, he felt a spurt of piss leave his body, dampening the front of his underwear. He was able to stop the flow quickly by shoving his hand between his legs, and he cursed loudly. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He shivered, rubbing a hand over his bladder. It was filled to the brim with multiple bottles of water and cups of other liquids in between, making it bulge out completely and ache when pressed upon. He stood from the couch abruptly and ran to the bathroom upstairs, liquid sloshing inside him with every step he took.**

Throughout the day, Richie'd been semi-hard off and on from the anticipation, alone. But when Mike threw his hands between his legs and began swearing, Richie's heart rate kicked up, and he let out a soft groan as he felt himself go hard in his shorts. "Fuck is right, babyboy." Richie bit into his lip as he watched his brother shove his hands between his legs, and at his center. "What's 'a matter? Body betray you?" Richie asked, dipping forward, ready to place a wet kiss to his brother's neck. But then Mike stood, and began running. Luckily, Richie's legs were longer, and he took two steps at a time up the stairs, after his brother, then surpassed him. With his arms and legs spread along the edges of the doorway, Richie formed a blockade. "Come on, Mike... Surely you're old enough to keep it in better than that. What do you say? Wanna go for a walk with me? Nice day out."

**Mike was standing at the door to the bathroom, legs crossed, bouncing up and down to hold it in. “Please, Rich! I need to go so bad, let me in!” He tried to pull his hands out as if to shove his brother aside, but the second he pulled his hand out from between his legs, he felt his bladder throb painfully, and his hands went right back in. He was stuck, he couldn’t physically move Richie, and his brother wasn’t listening to him either. “Cmon, please! I’m gonna piss myself!” He whined and whimpered, hoping his brother would take some pity on him.**

"Aw... two pleases?" Richie asked, mocking tone firmly in place as he pulled his limbs in, all but for the hand reaching out to grab Mike's. "Fine, c'mere you big baby," Richie said, walking backwards to the toilet, pulling Mike by his hand. Richie slumped back to sit on the lid, immediately grasping Mike by his lithe hips, and pulling him down to straddle Richie's thighs. Let his large hands move down to the swell of Mike's ass so he could hold him still and close and sure, his cock twitching between his thighs where pressure had built up from Mike's weight. "There you go, Mikey. You're over the toilet. Go ahead and piss. That's what you wanted right?" Richie licked out his lips, desperate to see what his brother would do, aching to kiss his mouth open and down his neck, maybe roll his hips up into Mike's.

**Mike was relieved when Richie pulled his hands away — he would finally be able to go. But then Richie was pulling him inside the bathroom, sitting on the toilet, and pulling him on his lap. “No, Rich.” He mumbled, hands still tightly woven in between his legs. “I can’t go, you’re on top! Please, just —,” Mike made a move to try to get off Richie, maybe go in the sink or something, but another spurt pushed out as he removed his hands, and he once again put them back to staunch the flow. He had about thirty seconds to figure out what to do before he peed himself, he could feel it. “Please, please Richie, let me go, I need - I need to so bad.” His face was burning red, throat closing up, legs shaking from the energy it took to keep it in. He was almost out of time.**

Watching Mike squirm on top of him, trying to move, and then replacing his hands back between his legs made Richie smirk. He lilted his head to the side, ducking his head to look Mike in the eyes, if he could. His brother was blushing so sweet and pretty, embarrassed. " _'Please, please_ ,'" Richie repeated, higher-pitched, on a laugh. "Put your hands on my shoulders, Mikey. Then you can go. If you need to so bad." Then he hitched Mike forward more, pressing his center flush against Richie's belly, jarring Mike.

**Mike blushed even harder as Richie mocked him sweetly, keeping his face light. “On your shoulders? Will - will you let me go if I put my hands -? I’ll do anything, Rich, I just need to so bad!” Mike hesitantly took his hands out from between his legs, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to press his legs together, despite being spread out on top of Richie.**

"Fuck, you're cute... Of course I'll let you go, baby. I've been asking you to for the last minute. Must be close to not having a choice, right?" Richie's chest felt warm as Mike tried to do as he was told, love filling him up from the inside, at his core. "What're you afraid of, huh?" Richie nuzzled his nose against Mike's, something akin to an Eskimo kiss, getting their mouths close, as he massaged his hands into Mike's ass cheeks.

**“But I —“ Mike cut himself off with a moan as his bladder failed him and he let go, warm liquid immediately seeping into his pants and running down his legs, drenching his brother’s lap. It felt too good to stop, so he didn’t, forming a pretty sizeable puddle on Richie’s lap, and on the floor. Mike reached for his crotch quickly, as if to stop the little bit he had left, and whimpered ashamedly as he realized he had emptied his entire bladder on Richie.**

Richie flushed hot with want as he felt warmth spreading over his lap, breath catching as he swallowed thickly around the praise he longed to give Mike. He did such a good job finally letting go. But then his brother moved his hands and Richie kicked his voice up out of his throat. "Whoa hey, wait a second... You make a mess like some pathetic, helpless little boy, and then you disobey me? _Put your hands on my shoulders, Mike_. And look at what the fuck you just did. You got us all wet!"

**Mike sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and put his shaking hands back on Richie’s shoulders. His jeans were soaking wet, the warmth turning cold and sour very quickly, reminding him of how childish he felt to be wetting his pants. But then a new warmth sprouted in his body — his cock. It was hot and throbbing, leaking precum as soon as he had finished, his brother’s words causing it to poke up with curiosity. “I’m sorry f-for disobeying, Chee,” Mike mumbled.**

Chest puffing up with pride as Mike complied, Richie felt himself subsequently melting at the nickname, the soft utterances of his brother. The apology. But then Richie realized with triumph that he no longer had to hold Mike steadfast on his lap.

He let one hand draw up to hold at Mike's side, as he brought the other between their stomachs, down into his own shorts, feeling up the hard length standing up between his thighs, and then used the back of his hand to push his shorts up and away, stained darker now with Mike's piss. He gave himself a sturdy stroke, glancing up from under his lashes to see if he had Mike's attention. Then let his cock rest against his stomach. Richie turned his palm, fingertips pointed downward, and began to cup Mike's pants at the crotch. He could feel how hard Mike was, and grinning, lifting his head completely.

"Wow... You're a real slut, Mike Wheeler. I know why _I'm_ hard... It's cause I can get you to do whatever I want. But why're _you_ hard? You liked pissing all over yourself. Getting it all over me, too? Huh?"

**“Yes! I like it so much, felt so good to hold it for so long then just go everywhere!” Mike wailed, staring down at Richie’s cock and salivating. He looked so big, so thick, and Mike could already feel his hole ache with excitement. He wanted it in him so bad. He wanted Richie to peel off his wet jeans and grab his ass tightly, rubbing and fingering his hole. He put his hand on top of Richie and squeezed their palms together, pressure building on his trapped cock and he moaned. “Slut for you, Chee. Only for you.” He said, moving into suck on Richie’s jaw. “Touch me.” He whispered between licks.**

Richie's eyes went impossibly bright, amused and pleased as Mike cried out. Cock beading with precum against his shirt, Richie's eyes went hooded as Mike disobeyed him a second time, coming to make Richie's grasp on his cock better for himself. Eyes dark, Richie inhaled deeply as Mike got his tongue on his jaw. He began slowly rubbing harder over Mike's jeans, pressing the cooling wet into his brother's cock. Wanted to see how long it'd take for Mike to start helplessly humping into his palm, see if he'd lose focus and start panting against Richie's mouth.

But his own cock was so fucking hard, and the idea of getting his dick deep into Mike's heat was so fucking tantalizing Richie changed plans, mid-stroke. "Hands on my _shoulders_ , Mike," he barked out, undoing Mike's pants quickly, at the button, dragging the zip down. Mike's jeans were stiff with the weight of his piss. It wasn't like jeans were that easy to slip down, when they were dry, but they clung to Mike, now, especially. "Put your feet on the floor, Mikey. Don't you dare let go of me again, I'll smack your ass raw and then fuck you till you _really_ can't sit down."

**Mike had thrown his head back, Richie’s palm rubbing him through his jeans felt _good_ ; it felt so good. He felt dirty, and it was a feeling he craved more often than not. Then he felt Richie’s hand leave him and he looked up in confusion. With Richie’s words, his hands were going right back to his brother’s shoulders and his knees were knocking as he stood on the floor, scared but intrigued. “Yes, sir!” He blurted out and quickly went to cover his mouth in embarrassment. _Wrong move_ , Mikey boy.**

With a quirked brow, Richie held back a laugh. "'Yes, sir,' would've been fine, you know. You're not very good at listening. Does that come along with the inability to hold your piss, or are you just that fucking desperate to be reminded who owns you?" How cute would it be for Mike to remember every time he tried to sit, who'd taken him, and why? Richie could just picture the bright red flush that would come over his brother's face, hours, maybe even a day from now. "I was gonna take your pants off, baby. Play with your hole, and make you feel good. Fuck you. Now your cute, bony butt's gonna have my hand prints all over it. Since you can't pay the fuck attention, pull down your _own_ piss-stained pants, kneel on the floor, and bend over the tub."

**Mike whimpered, but quickly went to obey, fingers stuttering as he pushed down the zipper and pulled down his pants so they pooled at his ankles. Cowering down below Richie, he sank to his knees slowly and leaned over the cold metal of the bathtub, hands gripping the edges so tightly his knuckles were white. “I’m sorry, sir. Deserved to be punished.” Mike whispered, cock poking up to brush against the cold metal.**

"Of course you deserve it, slut. You say you wanna be touched. I was gonna take care of you - you're fucking lucky you're mine, by the way. Who else would fuck you after you peed on them? You're disgusting, Mike. Kneeling in your own piss right now. - And then you have the nerve to disobey me three times in a row!" Richie's tone was a cross between something harsh and patronizing, as he stood up from the toilet, and pushed his shorts down his own legs, kicking them off, toward the door. He came to stand over Mike, legs on either side of his brother's ankles, then leaned down, palm pressing down on Mike's shoulder, forcing him chest, to bathtub rim. Other hand going to smooth over Mike's closest ass cheek, somewhat cool from the air. But it wouldn't be for long. Soon it'd be burning.

Cock hanging between his legs, bottom of his shirt brushing against Mike's, along his back, Richie slid his finger between Mike's cheeks, fingering around his rim. "Should put your jeans over your head and make you cum with your piss on your face, so you know just how sick you are, Mikey. But you're gonna have to earn your orgasm, as it is. And here's the best part: Since you've had so much trouble staying where I've told you to, if you fucking flinch while I'm spanking you, I'm gonna fuck your tight little hole, and get _myself_ off, and you can stay horny for the rest of the day. That's what you deserve, isn't it? Tell me."

**Mike was shocked. But in a deliciously good way. He had no idea his brother was capable of being so dominate, so undeniably hot. Then his words registered in Mike’s brain and he gaped down at the bathtub. _Flinch? If Richie was hitting him, there’s no way he wouldn’t flinch._ Still he nodded, tears welling up his eyes. He knew he’d be crying soon enough. The thought excited him and his cock, which bobbed happily between his legs.**

**“It’s what I deserve.” Mike agreed, voice shaking. “Please, sir, do to me whatever you want, I’m just a ...” Mike swallowed, hesitant to speak. No one liked admitting they were a slut. “Little piss slut.” He whispered, moving forward to try to grind against the tub. He was throbbing, and knew Richie wasn’t going to touch him. At least not yet.**

"Are you seriously trying to get off by humping the tub, right now?" Richie asked, eyes creased at the corners as he felt Mike shift forward, peeking over Mike's side to see his hard, pretty cock against the side, rubbing. "God, and I thought _I_ was the one who supposedly couldn't keep still. Know what, Mike? Someday I'll let you cum that way. You can straddle the side of the tub, and hump away, cold and sterile."

Richie's hand slipped up from Mike's shoulder, into his hair, wrenching his head back just a smidge, and then kissed the crown of his head, before tipping his chin back to rest there, and said, "Ten. I'm gonna give you ten, and you gotta stay still."

Letting go of Mike's hair, he braced one hand beside Mike's on the tub rim, then, as he was pulling his far leg to the same side for balance, he kicked Mike's legs apart. "Hold tight, now. I'm not giving you a break. First hit doesn't count. I'm really giving you a chance here; you better figure out how to brace yourself real quick, little brother." Gulping, Richie ceased teasing Mike's hole, pulling his palm back to line up with Mike's ass cheek. " _What's your color, baby?_ " One check, and if all was well, Richie was going to get it over with as quickly as possible so that he could get Mike stretched out over his cock, fucking finally.

**Mike didn’t want to stop. When Richie caught him grinding against the tub, he had actually had a good rhythm going, and he felt like he could actually cum from it. But then Richie caught him and he was forced to stop, his poor cock once again denied from his sweet high. Richie kicked his legs apart so he couldn’t do it again, and so his ass was exposed entirely. Mike was starting to get nervous, the cool AC of the bathroom reminding him how out and open he was to his brother, just pliant and obedient under his command. He wanted to be hit already. “Green,” He responded confidently, despite the way he knew he’d be hurting in a few seconds. Maybe he could cum untouched from this. Although Richie would probably make fun of him forever if he did. Not that that would he a bad thing.**

The hits were alternating. One cheek to the other, softer on the first couple of smacks each, growing more and more heavy-handed as he went on, into the meat of Mike's cheeks. Richie's mouth was watering, watching red lines appear in vague silhouettes of his fingers and palm. He didn't give Mike a chance, hardly, to even take a breath between them, quick and rough. Building the burn up under his brother's skin like fire, he hoped. Offering no help to keep Mike still, the only part of his body touching his brother, being the one inflicting pain and force. His own cock leaking from beginning to end, Richie felt a wet spot forming on his own thigh where he was leaning up against the tub, head of his cock resting on his leg. Aching for Mike.

He didn't pause for a moment, after spanking Mike, before he was teasing at his hole again, petting at his hair. "Think you can walk, Mike? What if I told you I'm gonna fuck you dry, if you can't get up off the floor right this second and go get me the lube from our bedroom?"

**It took so much for Mike not to flinch as Richie was hitting him. His throat was clouding up and tears were blurring his vision, biting into his lips as if that would stop him from moving. Finally, the last hit came and he almost sighed in relief before he realized that would probably get him in trouble, and he just held it. Richie was talking — telling him to get up and go grab the lube. If he couldn’t he’d fuck him dry. But Richie already knew Mike had gotten off that day and his hole was open and ready to go. Richie just wanted to hear him say it. Mike was stubborn though, so he instead tried to get to his feet with minimal success. His knees and thighs were shaking so hard he thought he might fall, his ass throbbing along with his heartbeat. So he did the only thing he could — admit it to Richie. “I’m, I’m already open.” He whimpered, jutting his bottom lip out and looking up at his brother. “Got... got off earlier.” He said quietly.**

Richie was impressed how well Mike had taken it. Admittedly, he likely would've moved away from every spank, were he in that position.

It even took his breath away when Mike attempted to get up. Richie bit into his lip in wonder, smoothing his hand down shaking legs, after Mike gave up, and settled back down. He pulled Mike's face up to look at him by the chin, after he verbally gave in as well.

The tears in his lashes made Richie's cock even harder, balls needing a release as Richie swiped his thumb over the dampness there, forcing Mike's eyes closed temporarily, as he did so. "Got off earlier?" Richie asked, voice softer, but like he was inspecting something peculiar. Something strange.

He was done teasing Mike's rim. Knowing, for certain, that his brother had already done enough of that on his own, Richie plugged him up with two fingers at once, shoving them in as he asked, "Cause you knew your brother wouldn't let you pee in the toilet like a civilized human being? Cause you wanted to just sit there and pee your pants, lose all control over yourself? Is that what got you going? What'd you fuck yourself with?" He continued to finger Mike, make sure he was actually stretched, before kneeling down behind him. They were going to have a nice long bath after this... After they cleaned up.

So Richie didn't care that he was putting his knees on the wet tile flooring, especially not as he replaced his two fingers with his cock, sliding in without hesitation so Mike could feel the stretch. Richie's hands were on Mike's hips, fingertips digging into his pale flesh. "You're so fucking greedy. Wanting to cum twice. Your cock is so needy. Ass too. Swallows me up. I'm surprised you weren't begging for me earlier."

**When Mike felt Richie slip in, the tears finally fell from his eyes, dripping down his cheeks in shiny tracks. "Fuck, Richie! So big, so much bigger than my finger!" He cried, feeling Richie grip his hips tighter and lean down to whisper naughty things in his ear. "Wanted you to fill me so bad earlier, sir, wanted you to stretch me out and make me yours."**

Eyes darkening, Richie felt Mike spread out on him, warm and slick. Damn near good enough to have his eyes rolling back in his head. One finger. He'd fucked himself on just the one. "A finger's not much, for a cockwhore like you... Couldn't have been very satisfying. Were you afraid to be desperate for me? That why you didn't ask to sit on my cock?" Richie, slid one hand up from Mike's hip over his stomach, to press into his bellybutton, trying to milk some extra pleasure out for his brother, get him squeezing around Richie's cock.

**Mike moaned sinfully; it was dirty and loud and almost made him cower in embarrassment. "Didn't wanna... ask..." Mike panted, trying to reach down and pump his cock along with the pace Richie's thrusts were setting. "Can do it myself...sir..." He whispered, the coil in his stomach tightening with every second that passed.**

In some ways it bothered Richie that Mike didn't want to ask him. But maybe Richie was responsible for dragging this out too long, throughout the day. Maybe he should've just sat Mike up on the kitchen counter and made him drink enough to get his bladder swelling. Should've fucked the piss out of him instead of this.

"God, I love it when you're loud. Makes me think you'd like to be caught getting fucked by me. Want someone to see you on all fours for your brother's cock. Too bad you're more willing to communicate that to other people, over myself, don't you think, _slut_?" Richie was ramming steadily into Mike, thick and long, grazing his prostate. Fingers squeezing his nipple, still. Hands busy holding Mike, taking care of him. _Can do it yourself? What the fuck does that mean?_

Then realized Mike's hand was off the tub. He hissed, balls tightening at the idea of Mike boldly attempting to take care of himself. Again. "Excuse me, whose bitch are you?" Richie said, slamming into Mike's ass so hard his hips were likely to ram into the tub, cock bouncing against the side, nearly propelling Mike half into the basin. "Did I fucking say you could touch yourself?" he asked harshly, finding Mike's wrist, and pulling it up too rest at his lower back, holding him in place as he resumed fucking into Mike harder.

**Richie slammed into him rough, and he slumped over the tub, bony hips hitting the edge and cock sliding off the side. “Fuck!” He exclaimed as Richie grabbed his wrist and pushed it behind his back, further stopping him from finishing himself. He’d probably pay for that later, although Richie only seemed to be mildly upset about it at the moment. Mike wiped the tears from his cheeks with his shoulder. He didn’t want Richie to see how pliant and obedient he was for him. Mike was feeling quite bratty at that moment, and he struggled to pull his wrist out from where Richie had him secured. He wanted to touch himself, he wanted to finish so bad. “Let me! I wanna touch!” He cried, pre-cum bubbling continuously from his cock at this point.**

"Oh-ho-ho, someone's being feisty, today!" Richie said, louder, over Mike's pitch. Their voices echoing in the chamber that was the shower. Richie felt Mike's hand pulling away, slipping from his grasp, and grimaced. His throat swallowed around the urge to ask Mike his color again, but Mike knew the safeword, and if he was this close to cumming... Well, Richie didn't suppose Mike would find need to use it. "Fine," Richie yelled, making a split-second decision. He let go of Mike's hand, simultaneously pulling completely out of Mike's gaping hole. Up and away from Mike altogether. "You wanna do it yourself? Go ahead. See if I touch you for the next _week_! Go ahead and cum, cold, on a floor covered in urine, alone like the pathetic, worthless slut you are."

**_Shit. Well. He had gotten himself into this mess, he might as well finish_.**

**With Richie’s eyes shooting daggers into his own, he turned around to face him, kneeling in the cold puddle on the floor. His hole was still gaping, aching to be filled again, but Mike fucked that up. He stroked himself slowly, looking up at Richie’s face. It was red and his brown eyes were blown out, his lips fastened into an angry smirk as he looked down at his brother on the floor. Mike’s eyes trailed down his flushed chest and right down to his cock, which was still hard and bobbing between his legs. His mouth watered. He stroked faster, twisting his wrist and swiping his thumb across the head.**

**Soon, he was thrusting up into his own hand, small whimpers coming out of his mouth. But it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t cum from this alone. “Richie! Richie, it isn’t enough, please,” He begged his brother, feeling like an idiot. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to be a brat.**

As keen as Richie was to see Mike struggle with the consequences of his decisions, his chest ached over the pretty sight before him, as Mike turned on his knees, sat before Richie looking so utterly small and helpless. He reached to his own cock, teasing himself with slow strokes, taunting Mike with it. And _oh,_ the sounds Mike made fucking his own fist.

He was beautiful and messy and Richie loved him for every ounce of it.

Then came the begging. The sound of it made Richie's eyes sting with want, his cock leak more precum, propelling a dribble of it to hang precariously over the floor. "That's so sad, Mike," Richie said, soft, mocking voice. "You can't cum without me? Are you capable of doing _anything_?" Richie sighed, like he was put upon, before stepping forward and leaning down. He took his brother's chin in his fingers, and nose to nose said, "I really do pity you, you know. Can you cum if I fuck your face?"

**Mike whimpered up at his brother, begging him to give in and help him cum. Richie sighed and leaned to take his chin in his hand. ' _Can you cum if I fuck your face?'_ The words were music to Mike’s ears. He nodded eagerly, a little too much so, and started to run his hands up Richie’s thighs, just aching to choke on his cock. When he got up to it though, Richie stopped him. _“Nuh uh; hands behind your back.”_ Mike obeyed, putting his clasping his hands behind his back and opening his mouth, sticking his tongue out expectantly.**

Feeling Mike's sweet, cool hands on his thighs, catching up his leg hair, Richie had to swallow back the love he felt, to propel Mike into removing them.

Mike wanted to be used, in this moment, and Richie understood that. It meant Mike couldn't have control over anything. When he stuck out his pretty tongue Richie licked up it, an almost-kiss, more dirty, for show, than the kinds of kisses he'd give Mike later.

Then he lifted himself away, tugging Mike's chin up so he was high enough for Richie to slide his cock in. "You really are a brat, Mike. Don't know why I put up with you. Make me cum with your throat and I'll help you cum. Want you to finger yourself, now, got it?" Mike's hands were close, anyway, at his lower back. "If you can cum from just that, I'll even blow you later."

Richie finally slipped into the hot heat of Mike's mouth, sighing at the edge of Mike's teeth along the thick length of his cock. He was so hard now, the veins in his dick were prominent, concentration of blood there making him weak in the knees, almost light-headed. He slid in till he hit the back of Mike's throat and flexed his toes, on edge. Mike's mouth was the best sex toy anyone could ask for, and just knowing that made it hard for Richie not to blow his load straight away.

**Mike let out a soft moan that was muffled around Richie’s cock; it almost sounded like a gag. He obeyed nonetheless though, keeping his hands behind his back to reach down and touch his still-wet hole. He had to shift his knees a bit, which were cold and wet from the yellow puddle on the floor, but he was able to push a finger in himself, eyes rolling back at how loose and easy it was to slip in.**

**It was like a tease almost, with Richie’s cock fucking in and out of his mouth at a brutal pace, he could hardly reach far, finger brushing not even close to his prostate. His cock bobbed desperately between his legs — if he could get Richie to cum, Richie would help him cum too. So he hollowed his cheeks and opened his throat, hoping Richie would cum down his throat soon. It was getting hard to breathe. Not that he didn't enjoy that.**

As Mike's throat squeezed around him, Richie felt himself letting go to it. Orgasm too tempting to draw this out any further. He let the moans Mike squeaked out around his cock penetrate his ears and take him closer to the edge, large hand covering the crown of Mike's head, holding him still as he rocked in and out, barely ever getting far enough out to clear Mike's airway. Richie began to feel the pleasure sparking up his spine, and as his eyes fell closed, he locked his knees in place, bringing Mike's nose to his navel as he thrust along his tongue, one final time, warm cum spilling from him as he groaned Mike's name, loud in the bathroom. Body going taut and hand shaking in its grip, as he cupped his balls with the other. Coming down from his orgasm, Richie was quick to brace himself on the wall instead of Mike, letting his brother pull off to breathe, listening for the sweet sound of gasping.

**After a few more seconds of sucking, Mike knew Richie was about to cum. He could feel the tip of his cock twitch and his balls tighten, so he was mostly prepared when the hot cum came spilling down his throat a second later.**

**What he was not prepared for was Richie pushing him until his nose touched his hips, and his cock hit the back of his throat. Mike pulled off, gasping and coughing, eyes watering and drool leaking from his lips. He kept his eyes on Richie though, who was still riding out his high as he wiped his mouth. Mike still hadn’t finished, the head of his cock almost turning purple from how long it’d been. “Richie...” He whined, rutting against the cold floor. He needed to finish so bad.**

"I know, baby," Richie said, quiet and low after taking another, steadying breath. He bent down, reluctantly sliding his hands under Mike's arms, to hoist him up onto the edge of the tub, before sinking down to his knees.

The reward he'd teased Mike with earlier was just that, as much as he would've liked to watch his brother hump the floor to orgasm. Gorgeous, dark red cock so ready to let go.

Richie slid one hand down, and around, to brace Mike gently at his lower back, while the other lifted the cock between Mike's thighs to his lips. Richie let his lips slide down, over the head of Mike's cock, slow, and hot. So warm compared to the air in the room. His tongue slid down along the underside of his shaft, as Richie continued, taking him centimeter by centimeter so Mike could feel it every bit of the way. Richie looked up at Mike's face from behind his glasses, and carefully relaxed his jaw and throat, so that he could take Mike all the way down, breathing through his nose until it was too difficult. Then set a steady pace as he finally pulled back up. Intent on helping Mike cum as quickly as he'd like.

**Mike whimpered as Richie flipped him over and grabbed his oversensitive cock, keening forward went Richie wrapped his lips around it and sunk down, enveloping his cock in the warm heat. He was so close — and it wouldn’t be long until he came now. Richie bobbed up and down his cock, deep-throating it and licking across the slit. Mike threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut as the coil in his stomach tightened, and without warning he came into Richie’s, hot cum spurting down into his throat. “Rich - Fuck!” He felt bad not warning him, but to be fair, he didn’t even know it was coming.**

The sound of it was beautiful, more than anything. He loved hearing Mike scream, or yell, even if it was just because he was angry. But when it was because he was cumming into Richie's mouth, that was easily the best. Richie swallowed around him, leaving his lips around Mike's head, sucking him down as well as he could manage before finally resigning as the last dribble fell to his tongue. He licked a stripe up the over-sensitive head, down, then wiped at the saliva and cum that had managed to pool below his lower lip, and gave Mike an extra couple of strokes to his cock for being so bratty throughout.

Then turned much softer, pulling Mike into his chest and softly kissing up his neck, and his jaw, one hand smoothing up and down Mike's thigh. "Get you a bath going, baby. Then I'm gonna clean up, and join you, okay? Can you sit on the toilet for me while it runs?"

**Mike felt his knees shake and give out as Richie licked up the last of his cum, stroking his oversensitive cock and causing him to whine one last time. He fell into Richie’s arms and listened to his soft voice as he asked him to sit on the toilet while he ran a bath. Mike complied and sat on the closed lid, careful to keep his cock from rubbing against it. His thighs were pulled to his chest, chin resting on his knees as he watched Richie run the bath sleepily. His ass ached a bit; he could already feel the bruises starting to form on the sweet plush skin of his bottom. His hole also throbbed painfully, as if he needed to have it filled again.**

**Right now, he just wanted to be in the bath with Richie.**

"Thank you," Richie said, scooching out of the way to let Mike pass, watching while he pulled his knees up, feet on the lid. Richie reached out, smoothed a thumb over the top of Mike's foot, then let out a little sigh of discontent of having to let go completely, at least until he was done cleaning. He could reach the spout and handle from where he was, so he stretched over the tub to turn the water on, hot at first, to get the temperature up, then, letting the water run over his fingers, he waited until it was no longer cool, turned the temperature to something more warm than hot, and plugged up the drain.

They didn't have any bubbles, really, but there were lavender bath oils from the last time Richie'd gotten overzealous with his bike tricks, and his whole body had been aching for days. Bev had brought it over for him, then left it there, ' _Not like you're gonna stop being an idiot any time soon,_ ' she'd told him. He actually hadn't had to use it since, but Mike deserved something extra relaxing.

Popping the cap, Richie drizzled oil over the rising water levels, then finally rose up onto unsteady legs, and sore kneecaps.

Turning, he gave Mike a soft smile, and pushed the hair back off his forehead with his palm. "Need me to hold your hand while you get in?" It was only half-teasing. He reached forward, grasping Mike by the wrists, and pulled him up off the toilet, back onto the floor, securing Mike's arms around his neck, offering a kiss, slow and sensual, while he rucked Mike's shirt up, and then finally guided Mike's arms to rise further so he could fully divest him.

"Water should be good?" he said, dropping the clothes to the floor, before tearing the towels currently hanging from the rods to the floor as well. To make quick work of soaking all the urine up off the floor, then throw it into the hamper and get things running in the washer. Spray everything with disinfectant, and then wash his hands to grab all new towels, and a couple of wash cloths to bring back with him, once he finally got to sink into the bath at Mike's back.

He helped Mike in, made sure his brother didn't slip in the tub, then did just that, giving Mike a small frown as he peeled out of the bathroom and down the hall to their washing machine. Then back out to the linen closet.

Finally, when he returned, clean towels in hand, he put them up on the rod, and threw the wash cloths into the water to begin soaking, so the soap could lather later, and pushed gently at Mike's shoulder. "How you doin'?" he asked, finding a way to get his feet on either side of Mike before lowering himself in with bent elbows and strained forearms. Once in, warmth encircling him, Richie shivered, realizing how cold he'd actually been. Wrapped his arms delicately around Mike's waist. He thumbed over Mike's slick tummy, and buried his nose into Mike's hair, sighing, in content this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ellie Goulding x Diplo's "Close To Me"


End file.
